


We Fight At Kirby Plaza

by Nuwandalz



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Asphyxiation, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-09
Updated: 2010-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:59:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuwandalz/pseuds/Nuwandalz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just like the first time, they meet at Kirby Plaza. PWP</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Fight At Kirby Plaza

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fill for a Petlar kink meme prompt. It's been beefed up since my original anon post. Water related asphyxiation.
> 
> UnBeta'd.

Kirby Plaza glowed, the lights from the nearby buildings and inside the fountain itself softened the red of the twisting architecture. Peter sat on the steel staircase, looking out across the square waiting for Sylar. There had been no reason to ever come back here; no other fight to save the world brought itself to this small location. Kirby Plaza continued to be as uninteresting as it always was. Only after a blink did Peter notice Sylar near the fountain, looking up at him amused, arms folded. Peter snorted softly to himself before standing up and jumping off the red staircase, landing easily next to Sylar. Some abilities really did make all the difference – a bit of levitation made falls a lot easier to deal with.

“It was built in 1973 b—“

Peter swung his fist, hoping to catch Sylar across the face but the other man smirked, ducking low to dodge it and taking Peter down to the ground hard. His head smacked against the concrete painfully, but the healing swept up over his body and healed any damage Sylar may have created. Hands scrabbling at the floor, Peter tried to find some way to brace his weight as Sylar began attempting to speak again.

"Did you know I've never bee—"

Peter kicked up, catching Sylar in the gut and stopping the stream of words. He rolled to his side and scrambled to stand, watching as Sylar gasped, clutching at his middle. A little unsteady on his feet still, Peter stretched out a hand and called up memories of Elle to throw electricity at Sylar, smirking at Sylar’s screech as the power thundered through the other man’s body. A struggling flick of Sylar’s hand in retaliation had Peter’s legs pulled from under him, sending him crashing to land on his ass with a yelp. Within seconds Sylar was in his face, crowding over him, hands fumbling at Peter’s pants.

“Not going to let me finish speaking Peter?” Sylar huffed out, fingers looping over the waistband.

“I’d rather you didn’t speak at all actually,” Peter returned, grabbing for Sylar’s shirt. Determined not to let Sylar win, Peter pushed at Sylar’s chest, adding telekinesis to his movement to fling Sylar back from him completely. Pushing himself back to his feet, he swept his hand out in an upward movement, throwing a telekinetic slice over Sylar's chest and causing Sylar’s shirt to part into two clean pieces. Blood scattered down Sylar's front but the healing had caused the original cut to vanish, only red streaking remained to show for the past wound.

Taking advantage of Peter’s pause, Sylar lunged forward, grabbing Peter by the throat with one hand and using the other to move telekinesis over the pants, button and zipper breaking apart. Peter struggled to reach for Sylar, telekinetic pressure along his limbs making him strain against an invisible grip. With a push of effort he managed to get one hand close enough to undo the button on Sylar's pants before Sylar tossed him towards the fountain. An extra kick of telekinesis to the throw had Peter landing in the fountain, his pants slipping down to catch along his shoes at both the force and pull of the water.

 

Spluttering, Peter pushed himself up to a half sitting position as he watched Sylar stalk closer, hand at his fly. Peter's hands slipped as he tried to get himself to stand, but Sylar's hand thrown outwards stopped him completely.  
"Wet is a good look on you Peter," Sylar joked, stepping into the fountain himself. "You know what's another good look?"

 

"Oh shut _up_ ," Peter snapped, trying to shake off the hold. Sylar laughed and the hold on Peter’s body fled. Peter pushed a hand back through his hair, making a face at how drenched he was; he’d have to make his way home in wet clothes. Sylar kept coming forward until he was standing over Peter, looking down at him with a smirk, the red steel twisting into an arch behind him. Peter rolled his eyes before Sylar dropped down to kneel in the fountain with him, water shifting up to splash at them both with the movement.

 

Pushing Sylar's pants down lower on his thighs, Peter leaned up and licked at the soft warm skin of Sylar’s belly, the tang of water collecting on his tongue. Mouth wide, Peter pressed his tongue flat to the skin, running it just above the waistband of Sylar’s pants until coming to an exposed hip. Biting down, Sylar hissed above him and Peter pulled away with a laugh before reaching up for Sylar’s face to bring him down closer for a kiss. He let his tongue run across Sylar's lips messily before pushing inside Sylar’s mouth, tongue curling against Sylar’s. He felt Sylar reach for him, hands coming to grip roughly at his exposed ass and pulling Peter close the movement unbalancing Peter and causing him to sprawl back into the water, breaking the kiss. Peter barely had enough time to push himself out of the water and spit before Sylar was roughly manhandling him around, the sound of splashing water doubling over the rushing of the fountain. Without waiting for any consent, Sylar lined his cock up with one hand and entered Peter quickly, free hand slipping in its grip on Peter’s hip.

 

After pushing his head out of the water _again_ , Peter swore, throwing a hand out to punch Sylar. Sylar let the hit connect, throwing back his head to laugh loudly, his throat bared and gleaming from water. Peter’s eyes took in the sight, watching the way small wet tracks were being made down Sylar’s neck, slipping down his chest. Sylar moved, the motion pulling his dick out of Peter slightly, enough to send his nerves tingling. Peter grabbed for Sylar, hands sliding due to the water, making it harder for him to get the grip he wanted. Annoyed, Peter groaned while Sylar just continued to chuckle, starting a rhythm with his thrusts that made it harder for Peter to keep his head above the water. 

 

The splashing alternated between being loud and dulled as Peter's head crashed back and forth through the water level. It made sound become Peter’s focus, his ears straining to catch Sylar’s moans and pants over the water. His body felt raw, the water slipping over his skin felt like caresses, forcing him to feel the way the water pushed through his fingers, his hair, over his throat and belly. He was being touched everywhere, inside by Sylar and outside by the water.

Peter clawed at Sylar, trying to get closer and only managing to avoid gasping down water along with the air he was desperately seeking. Sylar settled a hand at Peter's throat, pushing him underwater again as he picked up his movements, eyes growing wide with lust. From Peter's view, Sylar was a blur, a dark shape against the strange lighting of Kirby Plaza as it filtered through the water. A hollow sucking sound was popping through his ears and the water offered a relaxing and gentle hold around Peter's body. Under water everything felt slow, one step off and while his body was being stimulated by the liquid feel, it just wasn’t _hard_ enough. Everything was too teasing. 

When Sylar's hand gripped around him and stroked, Peter moaned, water pushing into his open mouth just as Sylar came. Being filled by both water and Sylar, Peter lost time, the sensations strange, comfortable and erotic all at the same time. Safety and arousal split him in half as he choked on water; he knew Sylar would pull him out before it got too painful. His lungs burned, adding an extra sense of pain and Peter found himself coming, head thrashing underwater while his body jerked under Sylar's touch.

A strong grip at Peter's shoulder yanked him out, the liquid sliding everywhere and tickling as the cool air hit against his skin. Peter coughed, breath escaping through the water he’d swallowed. His entire body felt strange, a buzzing that went from his scalp all the way to his toes still trapped in water-heavy shoes.

 

"Happy anniversary," Sylar said, barely heard over Peter's harsh breathing. Peter laughed, his throat feeling raw and scratchy.

 

"Happy anniversary, Sylar."


End file.
